Grandma pressed a hand against her chest.
“But I remember something else.”
The manager paused.
“One of the brass buttons had twisted around when she wrapped the coat over me. It was right beside my cheek.”
He looked at the button in Daniel’s hand.
“There was a little crown on the back. Underneath it was the number 17.”
Grandma began crying quietly.
The manager continued.
“I stared at that button while she carried me. My eyes hurt too much to look anywhere else. I was afraid that if I closed them, I would never open them again.”
He stopped reading.
For several seconds, all I could hear was the faint Christmas music overhead.
Then Grandma whispered, “He remembers that?”
“Every detail.”
The manager explained that the man had returned to the store repeatedly.
He’d described the coat.
The store identified it from its old catalogue.
Number 17 belonged to a limited collection the store had offered for sale that winter.
